


Walking On

by estir, Fizzy_P0p



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: A Look into the Life They Lead Before the Epilogue, Gen, Post-Canon, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 06:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17259431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estir/pseuds/estir, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fizzy_P0p/pseuds/Fizzy_P0p
Summary: Maybe it was Mikleo who had changed since their journey.Collaboration betweenFizzy_p0pandestir (tonight_aliv)forEternal Dream, a Post-Canon theme'd Tales of Zestiria zine.





	Walking On

The sunrise over Rayfalke Spiritcrest had always been one of Mikleo’s favorite wonders of the world. The sight of brilliant swatches of reds and oranges washing over the landscape never failed to amaze him. Sunlight crested the mountain range in streaks of gold, casting stray clouds in edges of silver and purple. Taller, snow-capped peaks glistened a bright white against the barrage of color. From the base of the path to Rayfalke, Mikleo had a painting-perfect view of the dark blue shadows cast across Glaviend Basin, he could watch as they receded back from the fading night. With his every step, the soil crumbled quietly underfoot. Instead of watching the colors curl and contrast and blend like he had all the time in the world, he continued forward, smirking as light refracted through dewdrops to make the grass glitter and sparkle as bright as the night sky.

Scanning the scenery before him, Mikleo’s smirk fell into a contented smile. Although there had not been a huge change since he made the very same journey with Sorey and the others, the colors were more vibrant and dazzling, like waking anew with a clarity that only time can bring. Or maybe the world hadn’t changed so much, maybe the colors had always been there just behind the clouds.

Maybe it was Mikleo who had changed since their journey.

The first fork in the path lingered ahead. Weeds twisted from the harsh earth, overwhelming a structure of rocks with vines and leaves and moss. The green and grey were cast in the mountain’s shadow, protected from storm and sunlight, as if trapped in time. A breeze tousled Mikleo’s shoulder-length white hair as he watched, the blue-hued tips dancing in his periphery to remind him that time did not stop for all. Did not stop for him. No matter what his memories yearned for.

His only forewarning of her arrival was a slightly unnatural shift in the air, like a thunderstorm lazing in from across the sea.

“What are you staring at, Meebo?” a familiar voice droned behind him. 

Honed instincts tensed the muscles in his sides before the inevitable umbrella strike, but Edna aimed the tip between his ribs instead. He flinched at the sting and turned toward her, familiar glare alight in his bright violet eyes.

“That’s better,” she said, twirling her cream parasol expertly over her shoulder, “That smile on your face was really creeping me out.”

Mikleo tried to hold his glare against her blank expression, but quickly fell to laughter as the silence dragged, “It’s good to see you too, Edna.”

His laughter resounded against the canyons as she turned away with an exaggerated roll of her eyes and started walking back down the path toward the Fawlkin Hillside. He followed instinctively, falling into her pace at half a step behind her. Oversized pirate boots pounded against the rocks, but her cantor remained lightweight and agile. The new overcoat she had taken to wearing since their first meeting accented her growing blonde hair, the tall cotton collar scratching at the baby hairs that wouldn’t reach the band at the base of her neck.

Time continued on.

“This is obviously a dead end, Meebo,” she said, face forward and stoic as they continued downhill, “You know humans will never understand this sort of thing. I don’t know why you’re dragging me down here just to listen to some idiot spout more nonsense.” 

Mikleo smiled softly, “It never hurts to listen, though. What if this one has some insight?”

The line of her shoulders fell in an exaggerated sigh, and her arms swung in an exaggerated arc against her sides. With a flick of her wrist, she twirled her umbrella expertly above her head, the action as seamless as each heavy step against the grass. Its metal tip glittered in the sunlight with each turn, sparking as if alive.

“I don’t know how you keep dragging me into these things,” she mumbled into the clap of the handle against her waiting palm. He turned seamlessly, gazing across the rustling treeline to mutter a soft  _ easily _ into the back of his hand.

They continued toward Marlind at a leisurely pace with an easy silence wrapped between them. The stretch of fields and forest that once reeked of malevolence and hopelessness now bloomed in bright greens. The rainy season had returned to something like a steady pattern some decades ago, and every last living thing seemed to rejoice in its care. Mikleo had seen a similar trend in his travels, had seen life spring anew and with a vitality that inspired all he came across. He would write this down later, he decided. Something about the trek from Rayfalke prompted him toward the poetic, and he didn’t really want to let the inspiration fade away unnoticed.

“Your hair’s getting longer. Are you finally growing up?”

Mikleo drew his focus back to Edna, to the slight turn of her waist as she regarded him with no small amount of mischief in her blue eyes. The tease made something warm and tight swell in his lungs.

“I just don’t have time to keep it as short as it used to be,” he said, “Zavied gives me enough grief for it; I don’t need your input as well.”

“Oh, but it’s so much fun to make you pout like that.”

He blinked, stepping to her side in a rush, “I am not pouting!”

“Are too,” she sang, chin held high and gaze fixed forward. And well, okay, maybe he was pouting a little.

Her umbrella knocked against his shin gently after another lapse of silence, the movement purposeful but not meant to hurt. Mikleo blinked at the ground, at the parasol and the seraph who wielded it, and held his breath. Edna spared him but a glance before she opened her umbrella. It fell against her opposite shoulder as if it belonged there, always.

“You’re still okay?” she asked from within the shadows of her own creation.

He bit his lower lip in a small smile. His breath hitched.

“Yeah,” he said, hating the small crack in his voice.

“Doesn’t being around humans make it hurt more?” she kicked at a pebble in her way.

He hummed, but his smile remained, “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

She gave a hum of her own in reply, and Mikleo let himself breathe normally when she didn’t press the issue any further. Their silence was broken only by rustling grass and trees, by the scattering animals and nature that filled the spaces between where light now reigned. The juxtaposition was more bittersweet than anything else for the two who had once been so thoroughly entwined with the fate of the world.

Finally Edna laughed lightly, broke through Mikleo’s musings and memories with an abrasiveness that rivaled any advanced seraphic arte.

“I think the sun shines a little too brightly in your world, Meebo.”

And they walked on.

**Author's Note:**

> From the bottom of our hearts, Fizz and I would like to thank everyone who supported the creation and production of _Eternal Dream_ , from the mods to our fellow contributors to the fans who purchased a copy of the zine to our own support networks who helped make this project a reality. We couldn't have done this without you all.
> 
> This was both of our first zine project, and we couldn't be more thankful for the experience. On to ~~play Tales of Vesperia: Definitive Edition~~ the next big project!


End file.
